Video Games
by vividoddity
Summary: Sherlock brings home an old gaming system. They use it wrong.
1. Chapter 1

John Watson was asleep on he couch when Sherlock got home. He glanced at him and half-smiled as he took off his coat. He looked so peaceful. "John." he barked.

"Hm?" John blinked awake and squinted sleepily at Sherlock. "Oh, you're home." he mumbled horsely and closed his eyes again, attempting to go back to sleep. Sherlock would have none of it.

"Up!" he said excitedly. John suddenly noticed a large bag in his hand. Oh, no. An experiment. They had just scraped the last one off the walls. Sherlock beamed at him and dropped it on the floor between them. "Go on, look inside!" he was grinning. John raised an eyebrow, but rolled off the couch and crouched down to peer into the bag.

It was a gaming system. A rather old one, in fact. It was dusty and two tangled controllers sat on top of it. "Sherlock...?" he looked up at the lanky man, who was still beaming down at him. "Why did you get this?" he mumbled in confusion, swiping some dust off with his finger.

"To play with." Sherlock replied, as if it were obvious. He crouched down too, digging into the bag and getting out the system, blowing the dust off of it.

"Sherlock, we're grown men." John said exasperatedly, watching him examine it on all sides and rap on the blocky grey thing enthusiastically. He poked and prodded at it, wiggling his fingers around in the slot and sending puffs of dust everywhere.

"So?" he asked, pulling a sledgehammer out of the bag. John blinked. Sherlock simply pulled out two pairs of goggles. He put on his own and handed the other set to John, who also put them on hesitantly. Sherlock raised the hammer and gave the system a good whack. It bounced off, only leaving a small dent. His face split into a grin. "So they are as sturdy as they say. Oh, this is going to be fun indeed."

John smiled too. "Oi, can't I have a turn?" he asked, chuckling. Sherlock looked mildly surprised, but handed him the sledgehammer without hesitation. John took a powerful swing and there was a loud popping sound. They both looked eagerly at the machine. An impressive dent with a faint crack at the bottom had formed. Sherlock nodded approvingly. John looked very satisfied.

They took turns bashing it for a few hours, managing to break two jagged holes in it and collecting the shards in a small jar on the kitchen table. They were both laughing like the sweaty maniacs they were by the end of it. Then it happened. Sherlock _hugged_ John. The laughter stopped. They separated quickly. John was bug-eyed, staring at Sherlock in utter surprise. Sherlock cleared his throat and scurried off to his bedroom.

John stood there to process what had happened for a moment. Sherlock had hugged him. Willingly. On his own accord. He knitted his eyebrows together. Come to think of it, beating up an old game system was a pretty strange activity, even for Sherlock to come up with. At least when they usually beat something up, it was a miscellaneous body part or dead thing for experimental purposes (not that they never enjoyed themselves).

He eventually snapped out of it, going into the kitchen. He made some tea and poured two cups, taking them to the door of Sherlock's room. He nudged it open with his foot. Sherlock was lying flat on his back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His shoes were still on and his hands were pressed together beneath his chin, as always when he was in deep thought. John quietly set Sherlock's tea at his bedside table and turned to leave, but Sherlock caught his wrist.

"You're confused."

"Yes."

"You want answers."

"Yes."

"Do you expect them?"

"No."

Sherlock looked up at him. He said nothing. John sat at his bedside and sipped at his tea calmly. Sherlock sat up after a moment, taking his tea and sipping as well. They both just sat and sipped silently for a while. Sherlock drained his cup and set it aside, lying back down. John had somehow still not finished his tea, but set it by the empty cup and lied beside Sherlock, kicking off his shoes.

"Did you ever play video games as a kid?" John asked, staring at the ceiling.

"No." Sherlock said after a pause, staring upwards as well.

"Neither did I."


	2. Chapter 2

They eventually fell asleep like that. When John awoke, Sherlock and the tea was gone. He stretched sleepily and got up, scratching his head. He showered and got dressed, not bothering to tidy up since Sherlock likely had some form of organization to his chaos in the kitchen. He noticed, however, that the fridge and cabinets were bare. Of food, anyway. He decided to go grocery shopping since he didn't have much else to do.

It was a pleasant day, so he walked there. He bought basic groceries, as well as some ingredients for dinner. He wasn't much of a cook, but he didn't feel like going out or takeout today. He spent the rest of the day lazing around the apartment, waiting for Sherlock to get home. It got rather late and Sherlock still wasn't home, so John started on dinner. Just some pasta, nothing fancy.

Sherlock burst in as John was pouring the pasta into a calender in the sink. He shut the door silently and stalked to the couch, throwing off his coat and scarf as he went and collapsing dramatically onto the cushions.

John nodded at Sherlock. "Made dinner." he said, scooping himself a bowl and dumping tomato sauce all over it. Sherlock raised an eyebrow, but got up and went into the kitchen. He grabbed the nearest clean-looking cup and dumped a small amount of noodles into it, grabbing a fork and eating it plain. They sat together on the couch, dining in silence. John finally piped up. "So, yesterday-"

"I'm sorry." Sherlock cut him off abruptly.

"For what?"

"Hugging you."

John laughed. "Why are you sorry?"

"Well... you seemed a bit shocked." Sherlock blinked confusedly.

"It was a surprise. But... it was a nice one."

"Nice?"

"Yeah."

They sat there looking at each other for a moment. "Well... you're welcome." Sherlock said quickly, shoving a forkfull of noodles into his mouth. They finished dinner without a word, tossing their dishes into the sink before going back to sit with each other on the couch. "So... it was nice?" Sherlock asked timidly.

"Yes. A bit awkward, but nice."

"Awkward?"

"Well, you kind of just flopped your arms around me and then ran."

"Then how was it nice?"

"It was from you."

"... That's the only reason?" Sherlock asked suspiciously.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"That's stupid."

"Mmhm." John nodded. "Pretty damn stupid. I'm a much better hugger."

"Oh, you are?" Sherlock's eyebrows shot up.

"Yep." John smirked ever so slightly. "Want proof?"

"... Yes."

John smiled and wrapped Sherlock in his arms, giving him a tight squeeze. He pulled back and Sherlock said nothing, anylizing the hug.

"Well?" John asked expectantly.

"That was fantastic."

"Thank you." John chuckled and bowed.

"It was hearty. Like being hugged by a bear." Sherlock said absentmindedly. "Very warm and pleasant. Nicely done."

"Are you reviewing my hugs?" John asked.

"Five out of five. Would hug again." Sherlock teased

John laughed loudly. "You are absolutely ridiculous."

"Wanna smash that system some more?"

"God, yes."

They scrambled up and put on the goggles, beating at the abused system for about half an hour. They then collapsed, panting and grinning like idiots on the couch.

"We really need a case." Sherlock said breathlessly

"I know." John chuckled.


End file.
